


Friendship… The Confessional

by Atacama



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Conversations, Friendship, Gen, Late Night Conversations, M/M, Male Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26536603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Atacama/pseuds/Atacama
Summary: It’s ridiculous how surprised Alex is when Forrest asks him out. His heart is broken and he’s surprised that people don’t steer clear of him and his aura of sadness and self-pity.But Forrest decides they’re going to be friends and it seems Alex has no choice in the matter. But maybe a new friend would be nice. A new friend could be exactly what he needs. A new friend who’s not afraid to demand he talk about his secrets, desires and loves. Maybe talking about this love will finally help him understand it.This is an Alex Manes & Forrest Long friendship fic. No sex but conversations about sex and relationships abound.
Relationships: Forrest Long & Alex Manes Friendship, Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 16
Kudos: 92





	Friendship… The Confessional

It’s ridiculous how surprised Alex is when Forrest asks him out. He’s not quite sure why he’s so startled and he would lie if he didn’t think it might be cause for some future introspection. Is it Roswell? Is it because of his upbringing, his fathers imposed shame? Is it a new thing, coming from the loss of his leg? Or is it because, this thing with Michael is so overwhelming and consuming that he feels it radiates from him and he can’t believe that a neon sign is not constantly flashing overhead warning people off with an “it’s fucking complicated”.

Meanwhile, Forrest is waiting for an answer and Alex can only stumble over his words and makes such a mess of it, that Forrest finally grins and states; “You’re taken.”

“What? No!” Alex replies, probably too vehemently.

“Ahh.” Forrest concludes. “Sexual tension with Alien guy was not something I imagined. Is it a new thing?”

“No! There is no thing. There is no new thing, at all, anywhere, with Michael.”

“Right? So?”

“I…” He is most definitely not going to say the words _‘it’s complicated’_. Not in a million years will he label himself with a Facebook relationship status. Never going to happen.

He settles on, “I don’t know how to answer that question,” which is not much better as far as responses go.

Alex shuffles his weight from one foot to the other. They’re both standing in the middle of the sidewalk, interrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic, as people narrowly avoid pushing past them.

Forrest arches an eyebrow and sticks his thumb towards Bean Me Up. “Coffee?”

Alex hesitates.

“Dude, it’s coffee. I promise my marriage proposal will wait ‘till I know you intimately enough to not feel embarrassed about ordering a Chai in front of you.”

Alex huffs a laugh and follows Forrest in. They get tangled in the process of cueing, and ordering and paying and suddenly Alex is faced with a human being who’s expecting dialogue, while they both sit across a table, in a public space and Alex realises he doesn’t really know what he’s doing.

Forrest, is calmly sipping at the latte, he’d pointedly ordered, barely paying him any attention, as Alex struggles to find a way to start a conversation.

“It’s strange to realise I haven’t ever really sat down to talk over coffee, one on one, with someone who isn’t one of my old high school friends.”

Forrest frowns, “You haven’t been deployed for the duration of your enlistment. There must have been moments when you were stateside. You haven’t had time to make new friends? Or date?” Forrest does take the time to study him for a moment before he finally asks, “Aren’t you Out?”

“I am Out.” Alex replies firmly.

Forrest looks at him balefully, “Really? If you don’t date or make friends, civilians or military, you never really have to come Out.”

“I do not hide it. I don’t…” Alex takes a deep breath, “Look, I’m not the kind of person that would ever be comfortable discussing personal things in a crowded public place, surrounded by strangers. The people in and of themselves make me tense. It’s just not for me.” Alex might recognise that his agitation in enclosed public spaces is definitely a result of getting blown up but he’s never, ever been a talker.

He tries to settle himself. “Let’s just say that I grew up in an environment marinated in testosterone and military isolationism. Follow that with a 10 year career in the Air Force… I’ve never had to unlearn that behaviour.”

Forrest, hums he’s agreement, “Yeah, I suppose I’m better at it then you because my military career was shorter and was followed by several years at a liberal college in a place where the motto ‘Keep Austin Weird’ was a re-education. I can relate. You got DADT, too didn’t you? You’re a couple of years older than me?”

Alex nods, “Yeah. I had just over 3 years in, with DADT.”

“I had about 4 months before we heard that they were presenting the repeal. But about a year until it officially passed. I was just heading off on deployment. It was a weird limbo. Most of the guys and gals I knew… it’s not like they came out one day to the next either. Like, nothing really changed.”

“Yeah, I was coming back from my first deployment in Iraq,” Alex agreed. The days following the repeal had made him feel both elated and really fucking depressed. He hadn’t had anyone to share the new openness with, so in the end it hadn’t changed anything for him, either.

“Where were you stationed after you returned from Iraq?”

“Washington for a while, Pentagon. But I was good at what I did so they sent me to Germany for some specialist training in cryptography and cyber-cracking, then I was deployed again. Berlin was… interesting!”

Forrest laughs out loud, at that. “Really? You’ll have to tell me all about it.” When Alex doesn’t respond, he insists. “No, I’m serious. I would love to hear about Europe. I’m a World War II historian, and I’ve never been. Also, Europe must feel so free compared to the US.”

Alex considers carefully before answering. “I don’t think its categorically freer, at least not compared to everywhere in the US. But definitely felt far enough away from home to be worth some of the risks.”

“Risks?”

“I don’t know if you know. But all the people I’m related to are military. Sometimes it didn’t matter how faraway I was from home, it felt like they were always looking over my shoulder. But Germany was… different.”

Forrest nods, understanding. Then he points at him, grinning, “don’t think I haven’t noticed you avoid the sharing aspect of your European, liberal, love parade, techno, disco, dancing gay days.”

Alex takes a sip of his cooling coffee. “I don’t really… talk about that stuff.”

Forrest studies him, a long moment. “Well, maybe you should. Hey! Maybe we should. I’d love to hear about it. And I don’t know many people in Roswell yet. But another time?” Forrest swigs the last of his coffee, Alex has barely started his.

“Uh, sure. It would be nice.”

“Well then, I’ll see you around.” Forrest stands, nods his head and leaves Alex at the table, finishing his lukewarm coffee and thinking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey Alex, you want to share a drink?”

Alex had been killing a couple hours, standing vigilance over a beer that had long turned warm. He wouldn’t say that he’s been avoiding the Pony. But… he was trying to find new things to do to replace the stuff he’s always done before. Sometimes after a long intense week at work he wanted to be social, share a drink with people he knew, chat. Before, that had been an easy fix… now, suddenly the Pony was not an option. Which led to Alex bored, holding a mediocre beer, in a place where he didn’t really know anyone, back against a wall, seated at a booth, alone and watching the bar slowly fill up on a Friday night.

Except… well, Forrest has just appeared beside him.

Alex blinks up at Forrest, in his casual tailored faux military jacket, blue hair swept back off his forehead. “What are you doing here?”

Forrest arches his eyebrow, “Am I not allowed? I think the better question is why are you here? Aren’t you usually at the Pony? I didn’t even know that you guys realised other places existed in Roswell. It’s not really a one-horse town, you know? Can I get you a beer?”

Alex focuses on his bottle and carefully sets it aside. “Yeah, sure. Whatever you’re having would be great.”

Forrest grins, “I warn you. It’ll be a craft beer.”

Alex returns the smile and shrugs. Forrest disappears and is back quickly with beer for both of them. He waits for Alex to take the first sip with a questioning look on his face. Alex is decently surprised.

“Not bad! I hope it’s local. Not imported across state lines and ruining life as we know it with its carbon footprint or anything?”

“Ha!” Forrest leans back into the corner of the booth and places both his feet up on the bench in front of him.

“Soooo, Alex, needed a drink to cap off your week?”

“Something like that. How about you?”

“Recovery from a surprisingly weird second date.”

Alex is left searching for his words. Shit, it seems he really isn’t as comfortable as he thought he was being gay in public. “Uhhh really, did the first date not give you any clues?”

Forrest grins, carefree. “You would think. First dates are so standardised; small talk over dinner followed by sex. I think guys are practiced in how to normalise themselves so they can score! But second dates…. Then you get to know a person… and they can be fucking weird. Worse is the realisation that you already had sex with this person and you can’t disassociate the decent sex from the weird person who you are now getting to know.”

Alex hovers with the beer bottle near his lips, before setting it down. “That’s not how I thought dating worked.”

“Oh! Really Captain? You want to show me how it’s done?”

Alex feels his skin heat and takes a drink instead of replying.

“Well, I’ll have you know that I absolutely put out on the first date. Second date… now those are harder to get me on. I have to like you as a person. And from experience I’ve learnt is easier to find good dick than good personalities.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Forrest sit’s forward and swings round to face Alex. “Hey! You don’t need to hear me oversharing about my sex-life. We don’t have to be that kind of friends. But I know that Captain Alexander Manes, the most eligible gay bachelor in Roswell, New Mexico, is off the market…”

Alex interrupts in rebuttal, “I am not off the market.”

Forrest glares at him amused, “Well, according to you, neither are you on the market! So, I suppose we’ll see how your eligibility evolves over the course of the coming months.”

Alex groans laughing in denial. “Evolving eligibility sounds a lot like another way to say ‘dating’.”

“What’s so terrible about dating? It’s great, you get laid, sometimes you meet people, what’s not to like?”

“You get laid and ‘ _sometimes’_ you meet people… Is that how it works? I would have thought it was the other way around.”

“Grindr!” Forrest states, as if that explains everything. “Actually, since we’re getting to know each other, maybe you can be my safety person… I definitely need someone in this god-awful town to be my 1 phone call for a terrible Grindr date bail out, rescue thing. You in? God knows that I don’t want to call my cousin for a fucking rescue. Talk about asking for your own gay bashing!”

Alex snorts, “Yeah, Wyatt would not be my first choice for a Grindr rescue.”

“Really? Now, do share Captain, all about your worldly Grindr experiences.” Forrest leans forward, attentive.

Alex stares at his hands on the table top and starts to pick at the label on his beer, considering. He takes the dive. “Uhhhhm, I’m not one for Grindr.”

“It’s not for all. Don’t like the anonymity?”

“No, that’s not it. I’m all for the anonymity. But I need to see them in real life. I know how much you can fake on the internet and I’m not gonna go for a full background check on every Grindr profile. It would make getting laid feel too much like work.” Alex looks up and meets Forrest eyes.

“True. But then where do you meet people in Roswell?”

Alex shrugs and leans back, thinking. “I haven’t really had to. But I suppose after… after my leg it made things complicated.” Forrest leans forward, serious and for a moment it looks like he’ll reach out and touch Alex’s hand, offer comfort, he’s a tactile person. But Alex is quick to pull his hands out of the way and shake his head. “Not because of that… because I used to go clubbing… I loved the music and the dancing and the freedom.” Alex shares a commiserating smile, “And well, I was learning to walk again so, dancing was off the table.”

Forrest leans forward, eagerly. “And now? I’d go dancing with you. Planet 7?”

Alex shakes his head from side to side and up and down with neither a yes or no. “Uh, Planet 7 is kind of… small.”

Forrest studies him, doubtfully, “too close to town?”

“I, personally, do not want to be probed at Planet 7.” Alex says pointedly, he’s seen those t-shirts he definitely doesn’t want to have a reason to buy one. “Also, I like clubs and club music… not bars with a dance corner.”

“Like… we’re gonna end up in Albuquerque… type club?” Forrest sounds doubtful.

Alex doesn’t commit to anything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

But that’s how it starts. Alex would be perfectly fine admitting that he has very little to do with it at the beginning. Roswell, is not a small town, by any means but suddenly he and Forrest bump in to each other and they’ll decide to grab a drink or something to eat and they start talking. Forrest has very little shame, and no topic is too revealing to have a conversation about.

Eventually, Alex invites Forrest over to the house he bought when he finally decided to ‘allow the air force to convince him’ to reenlist again. He was a disabled soldier, if they wanted to keep him around, they had to make some compromises. So, they had agreed contractually that they would not be deploying him overseas during this enlistment. They had also agreed that during his recovery (the first 18 months of his contract) they would do everything in their power to keep him on a base near his preferred hospital and medical practitioners.

Alex, on the other hand, had to commit to 16 hours a week as an instructor. Which he was actually, and very surprisingly, quite enjoying. Teaching coding to the next generation of Airmen in the US Air Force. He hated seeing the young faces, but knew that at least he was teaching them a useful skill. All this to say that Alex had decided to invest in a home in Roswell, as close to the town centre as he could get, while still being surrounded by the desert.

He kept Valenti’s cabin, as an escape or alien safehouse but today Forrest had come over to share a beer on the patio, of his house. He had taken the time to try and wheedle and cajole Alex into playing something on the piano or guitar he had set up in his living room… and failed, before they ended up sitting in the patio.

They were talking about coming out and high school and first crushes. Alex was having fun ignoring the bad things and enjoying the little thrills and nostalgia of having, once upon a time, felt young. As the sun starts to set, Alex lights the firepit and maybe it’s the intimate setting, that begins to influence the tone of the conversation.

“I suppose I lost my virginity over the course of 2010. With various people. Mainly guys, but a few girls make unscheduled appearances to keep things confusing.” Forrest frowns, “2010 was a fucking intense year, thinking back on it. If I condensed important events that happen every year, 2010 would have an epic list.”

“Like?”

Forrest has a distant look on his face as he thinks back on it, “First hand job with a girl, with a boy, blowjobs, broken heart, anal, breaking a heart, prom, enlistment… it was a busy year.”

“I…” Alex hesitates. He’s still not good at the sharing thing, “Most of those were all a one-person situation.”

“High school boyfriend?” Forrest asks, curious.

“Uhhhh.”

Forrest snorts, “you know, have you noticed, you’re never a simple yes or no kind of guy?”

Alex needs to make a choice now, about the kind of friendship he wants with Forrest. But it feels like he’s about to enter a confessional.

“Michael!” He finally says as if it were a blanket statement that answered all of life’s questions.

Forrest can’t hide his surprise, “Seriously, since high school? Wait is he the closeted cowboy cliché? High school?” He pauses for a second but before Alex can speak he adds, “and the in-between years too?”

Alex winces.

“Wow! I was not expecting that Alex Manes. You were ‘ _that’_ military asshole. Shit.”

There’s nothing that Alex can say in his own defence. He absolutely was; that military asshole.

“Is he Out?” Forrest questions.

“Michael not being Out… is a situational thing? Geographical?” Alex shrugs, “he hangs out at the Pony, so he usually picks up the girls that walk into the Pony… if a guy were ever to walk in there, I don’t think he would hesitate to go for it, and I know because,” Alex gestures to make it clear that Michael has never hesitated to pick Alex up at the Pony. “He’s never hiding it. No one knows he’s Bi because… because he would never go out of his way to share something personal about himself with anyone he doesn’t know and he has legitimately only ever talked to 5… 6 people his entire life.”

Forrest doesn’t look convinced.

“Let’s just say,” Alex adds, “I truly believe, that if I had ever had the balls to reach out and take his hand, and walk down main street, or kiss him outside the Crashdown… he would have been there at my side, no hesitation.” Alex shakes his head, “Seriously, there is no way I can even lay even a little of the blame at his feet. Since I enlisted, the risk was mine, the responsibility was mine, the decision was mine.”

“And?”

“I got complacent. He’d always been there, whenever I needed him. Whether it was for a night, a weekend, a couple weeks between postings… he never told me no. When I moved back to Roswell, weeks turned to months and I was an idiot. I counted on him to keep waiting for me without realising that keeping him at distance when we’re on different continents and keeping him at a distance when we are standing next to each other is not the same thing. My actions said to him ‘coming out for you is still not worth it to me’, ‘I don’t want to date you in public’. He waited for me to get comfortable enough to come out and instead I just got comfortable.”

“And so, he screwed your best friend?”

Alex shrugs, “I think he screwed his bar tender.”

Forrest laughs, “Seriously?”

“Michael has always been very clear. If we’re not publicly dating, then we are not dating and he will fuck whomever he chooses.”

“Seriously?” Forrest says again.

“Seriously! For Michael sex is very easy. Relationships? Friendships? Michael has his brother and sister, the only people he loves. Then for a while there was Noah, his sister’s husband and now there’s Liz his brother’s girlfriend, the people he respects because they love the people he loves. That’s it!”

“And you?”

“And me, what? I suppose it’s why I can’t fault Guerin for making the choices he’s making. We have 10 years of history behind us and for most of those… in hindsight… I really was an asshole. But Maria… I’m finding it harder to forgive her.”

Forrest shakes his head, “I don’t know how you do it. We’re having a nostalgic conversation about our first romantic sexual encounters and I ask you for details… and the entire answer to my question can be summarised with… Michael. And I still know none of the details.”

“What?” Alex objects, laughing, “You didn’t give me any details. You made a list of sexual and romantic acts that you experienced in 2010. There were no revelations! No names! No details whatsoever.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” he concedes begrudgingly. “But I didn’t have an epic high school romance. I can’t summarise all of my sexual experiences with a single name. We’re gonna be here all night.”

“Michael Guerin is not the entirety of my sexual experiences.” Alex denies, “but I will give you that he’s probably the sum total of my romantic ones. Having sex for the first time after losing my leg to an IED with Michael Guerin at 28 or losing my virginity to Michael Guerin at 18… arguably the two most vulnerable moments in my life… and I do not, for a second regret that they were with him.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s having fun. Forrest has become his friend. The strangest part, for Alex, is realising… that it’s new. 28 years old, 10 years in the air force, and this act of making a new friend is a new experience for him.

It definitely makes him re-examine his old friendships and it definitely makes him recognise the imbalances that have existed between them. Growing up he’d always listened to Maria’s and Liz’s and Rosa’s boy romances and boy problems but they’d never asked him about his.

He’d heard about their first kisses, their first dates, their first times. They’d never really asked about his. Still now after 10 years, Alex knows more about the preferences in bed of the Kyles and Maxes and Chads but Liz and Maria have never asked about any of his.

It makes him think about whether, he was just as secretive then, as he is now? Was it his shame that stopped him from talking about it with his closest friends? Or was it the lack of teasing, curiosity and pleas for more information that he’d so often seen Rosa, Liz and Maria demand from each other but not from him. Were they respecting his caution or comfortable with it?

He knows about their entire sexual histories, even over the decade where they weren’t in each other’s back pockets. They know he kissed one guy at the UFO Emporium, one time, 10 years ago.

These thoughts have been plaguing him and unsurprisingly, are articulated and untangled by Forrest, a few weeks later.

He’s popped over to ‘let Alex play with Buffy’ but Alex suspects that it’s because it’s Saturday afternoon and Forrest has a date tonight, that he hopes will last till tomorrow. He’s very unsubtly requesting that Alex let Buffy stay the night so that… Alex isn’t alone. But he brought some cupcakes over and they are eating them and drinking iced tea and Alex is amenable to any such influence after being provided with sugar.

“I think I’ve been missing out on the new friend’s thing if they keep showing up with sweets and a puppy.”

“Only gay boys show up with cupcakes,” Forrest jokes.

“Well, then I’ve most definitely been missing out.”

“It’s weird, being gay in the military. All my friends were all uber masculine straight men… or lesbians.” Forrest scoffs, at his own joke, “Well, that’s a gross over-simplification, but it was kind of a mind fuck to get to college and suddenly have open conversations about, like, sex and relationships with other queer people. To have friends who want to share blow job tips.”

“I’ve… never thought about it before?” Alex is kind of grotesquely intrigued with the idea. “I can’t really imagine it.”

“Let me tell you that the first time my friend Sami, asked me to meet him for post-date 2am pancakes at IHOP… a fucking eye-opener.” Forrest grins at him. “I will set the scene! Imagine little old me, 23 years old, a couple of months into my second semester in Austin, after 4 years in our Great Countries Armed Forces. I mean, I’m only 4 years older than the other freshmen, but I constantly feel like I’m surrounded by infants with 0 real world life experiences.”

Alex hums in agreement. Honestly after his first deployment there’s never been a time where he hasn’t felt out of synch with his civilian peers. This is a feeling he understands well.

“Well, Sami starts talking and I’m sitting there gobsmacked, because I have never shared the details of my sex life with anyone… and I mean details, what he liked, didn’t like, new discoveries and experiences. It did make me realise, sitting across from this out and proud 18 year old kid… that when it came to sex and my out and proud and very gay life… I was definitely the freshman sitting at the table.”

Alex frowns, he can’t really imagine himself in that situation. “I don’t think I’m _that_ kind of over-sharer!”

Forrest nods in agreement. “Absolutely, I thought that too. But you know what Alex, I think we’ve heard too many macho, hetero guys in locker rooms and military tents boasting about their dates like the girls they were with were sex dolls. Women, on the other hand, they can talk to each other about this shit. It might start with them talking about which guys to avoid in high school or which of their dates listened to instructions when they’re eating them out. But as they get older, they talk about what feels good, how to make their partners feel good. How to stay safe. When it’s funny, when it’s sexy, when it’s terrible, when they’re bored. When you’re sharing these experiences with your friends it teaches you to embrace the good things, to feel less shame. Women have had to do that, to own the slut shaming and I think queer people need to do it too. Arrive to the realisation that we too deserve to share sex tips and feel loved and appreciated.”

Alex takes a moment to think about what Forrest has said before replying. “Lately, I’ve been trying to make myself get over the feeling that my friendships with Liz and Maria were unbalanced in some way because I know all the details of their sex lives and they know none of the details of mine.” Alex reveals cautiously, “and I suppose I’ve been trying to decide if that imbalance is due to my extreme aversion to sharing or if they are the ones that never really asked or wanted to know.”

“Will knowing who’s to blame make it easier to blame or to forgive Maria for dating Michael, and Liz for telling her to go for it?”

Alex feels dizzy with the need that rises up in him to reject Forrest’s question but he swallows it down. “Fuck, you’re a dick.” He breathes out, then breathes again and he adds, “I suppose this is what real friendship really is. Because you didn’t hesitate to ask me a difficult question. I also suppose; now it’ll be your job to hold me accountable so I can figure out for myself what the answer is.”

“Yeah, who said this friendship thing would be easy?”

“Maybe I should be grateful I haven’t had to suffer from true friendship for the past 10 years. I think it’s going to fucking hurt.” He jokes but neither of them believes him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Forrest is trying to tease Alex into going out on a date with a guy he’d met a few days ago, who Forrest thinks would be a perfect leg over for Alex. They’re drinking, at Alex’s again.

“Seriously, he’s hot and he’s a tourist… in Roswell for a business thing. You’d never have to see him again.”

“I don’t date.” Alex insists.

“Really, never? Then what?”

Alex knows how to answer this question. “It’s easier to pick someone off a dancefloor.”

Forrest shrugs, “I’m more of an anonymous blowjob, kind of guy. Anything more than that and I need to at least know your real name.”

“Really?” Alex finishes the beer he’s holding and leans over to grab another from the cooler.

“Yep, I’m oddly averse to sexual encounters with total strangers. I’ve learnt to accept that about myself. No matter how many times I got dragged to clubs in Austin with my friends to get laid… just not my thing.” Forrest sips his beer, and leans back on the couch. “Now… take me to dinner with the pretence that this Grindr date is not a prelude to a one-night stand. Let’s have awkward small talk about your hometown, how many brothers and sisters you have, how much your boring desk job bores you and…. That’s a different thing altogether. Yep, for some arbitrary reason once I’ve seen you tip your waiter… anything goes.”

Alex and Forrest laugh.

“Usually, when I’m looking for a quick one nighter I head out knowing exactly what I want to find that night. I know exactly what I’m in the mood for and I look for the kind of guy I know will give me exactly what I want. I set a course, have a flight plan and if whoever it is doesn’t agree, then I step back on to the dancefloor and pick someone else out,” Alex admits.

“Have we drunk too much? It’s the first time I’ve ever heard you sound like a flyboy!” Forrest is laughing at him.

Alex laughs with him, “I am a Flyboy! I’m a fucking bomber on a flight path and a hurricane won’t steer me off course from what I want.”

“I suppose, since I am not a coding, hacking, cyber genius, a Grindr profile gives me the illusion of security, that I just can’t find with a random dude in a club.”

Alex, can understand that, “I suppose it helps that I feel no fear. Like, I absolutely know I can incapacitate anyone who touches me in a way I dislike, at any moment, during any encounter.”

Forrest sobers up, “Fuck, have you ever had to do that?”

Alex shrugs, dismissively, “Most guys who think they can dominate me, don’t actually have the patience or subtlety to wait for the moment where that could happen. I suppose I’m too hypervigilant and I can see it the moment they think they have the upper hand and I can shut it down way too quickly. They either reconsider or I walk away. But like twice, I’ve had to twist a guy in to a defensive hold because they wouldn’t back off.”

“That’s kinda hot, Alex!” Forrest leans his head back against the couch and blinks at the stars.

Alex turns his face to stare at Forrest. They’re both on the nice side of too drunk and Forrest is attractive. Alex can imagine that Forrest would melt into his control, it would be very good. But he shakes his head clearing the fog of lust and possibilities.

“I bet you don’t input a flight plan for Michael Guerin!”

And that is why anything with Forrest would be an epic failing fireball.

Alex whines, “Why do you always mention Guerin?”

Forrest smirks at him, “Because you’re always thinking of him anyway. Might as well bring it out in to the open.”

“Actually, I wasn’t thinking about Michael,” he denies firmly.

“Fine! Fine,” Forrest concedes, laughing, “So, why no dating?”

“Dating is like, it’s making the decision to step into the ring and say ‘I’m prepared to learn to trust you.’ Let’s make small talk, eat, drink and see if we’re compatible. That freaks me out.”

“More than picking random guys up from clubs to have kinky sex with?”

Alex shrugs, “I think for me… the most off limit kink is the idea of trusting someone completely with my own physical and emotional safety. It’s the biggest risk I could take. Like, compared to that, letting some random dude I meet at some dark, gritty Berlin nightclub fuck me is…” Alex shrugs again and rubs a floppy drunk hand over his eyes, “Fuck, that was an overshare. Sorry.”

Forrest studies him and Alex feels himself squirm under the attention. He seems to hesitate before deciding to go ahead and voice his thoughts. “It makes sense. And still, though you apparently haven’t realised… it explains Michael.”

“What… what do you mean?”

“I know this friendship of ours is young,” he gestures between them, “and there are many things you haven’t told me about what went down with Michael. But from what you have told me you and Michael shared this moment, a sweet, perfect, Hollywood, sexual, romance and it was followed by this intensely, traumatic, violent event… and after both these things happened to both of you, somehow… you still found safety and security with each other. So, to use your words, Michael is the only person you’ve ever had the courage to satisfy your sexual kink with.”

“Our friendship’s not that young anymore.” Alex replies, ignoring everything else Forrest just said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alex is not having a good weekend. And he’s been learning from Forrest but also now, sometimes from Kyle, that friends don’t leave you alone to suffer through the shit by yourself. He’d seen Michael and Maria walking together through town and Michael had been laughing and he had looked joyful and Alex was so happy for him and absolutely and utterly destroyed.

Alex had cancelled on Forrest, claiming he wasn’t going to be good company. Forrest had arrived at his door with a six pack anyway. Taken one look at his face and said, “I’ll put these in the fridge for another day. Do we need a cup of tea? Or coffee? I’ll go get them while you think about where to start.”

Alex nods, “yeah, coffee would be great” he sighs.

Grief presses down on his sternum as he remembers, what it was like to be 17 and desperately in love with Michael. It takes a while but eventually Forrest breaks him out of his introspection with a mug of hot coffee, to fortify him. They are both in the living room and Forrest sits in the armchair in front of the couch where Alex is sprawled. He hadn’t even bothered with his prosthetic today, so his right leg is laid out on the cushions, in front of him and the left is flat on the floor, keeping him grounded.

Forrest leans forward, elbows on his knees, serious. “Okay… if I am ever going to be able to give proper critical opinion about the whole your Ex and your best friend dating thing… like I’m gonna need the details. But…. Because we’re friends, I will not pretend that this is purely due to my own altruism. I’ll admit that a whole 20%... no 35% of my interest is because I’m dying to know… like what the fuck is happening?”

It takes a moment for Alex to reply, “I think first I have to explain Michael. Firstly; high school Michael and adult Michael are two very different people,” Alex pauses, “who are actually really not that different.”

“People in this town judge him. All the time. They see this failure of a human being. It makes them feel better about themselves to look at him and see the proof that delinquent children become delinquent adults, that society never should have put an effort into raising him, or helping him, or supporting him. That he was never worth the emotional investment. You know? He’s the college dropout, who couldn’t make it, borderline alcoholic who sleeps with everything that moves.”

Forrest lets him speak without interrupting and Alex lets himself get carried away in the memories.

“Michael, at 17 was… he was so beautiful… and a smartass but never mean, never a bully. And definitely not a delinquent. He never wanted to stand out. If you’d have asked anyone, who was the top of our class, everyone would have guessed; Liz or Kyle… but it was Guerin. He never boasted, no one knew he had perfect scores in almost every subject but English and History. No one knew he was a foster kid, or that for the 10 months before he turned 18 he lived out of his truck and he still out scored all of us and got a full ride to UNM.”

Alex meets Forrest’s eyes, “But just before graduation, it all went to shit. Rosa… your cousin Kate, and a shit ton of stuff that I didn’t even know until a few months ago. But between Michael and me, the catalyst… my father caught us. He mutilated Michael’s hand, beat the shit out of me. Michael still wasn’t 18 and wasn’t living in his state assigned foster home, so he wouldn’t go to the hospital. For a couple weeks there, I thought his hand would end up getting infected and he’d have to lose his fingers. It’s why I joined the Air Force. My dad said if I didn’t leave, he would make that ‘ _worthless orphan disappear and no one would miss him. No one would even wonder where he was_.’” Alex rubs his palm over his wet cheeks.

“I thought… for a few weeks we could leave together. But Michael was falling apart, he was self-destructing. Drinking, probably to numb the pain from his hand, getting into fights… stealing. But the violence… it was such a trigger for me and I just couldn’t deal with it. Ironic, I know, I couldn’t deal with the violence so I joined the military. But it’s different when it’s at home, when it’s your home. So, eventually I left him here…” He wishes he could end the story here, but…

“But then I just couldn’t leave him alone. Before tech school, I came back, after graduation, before each deployment with that dread that it was the last time we’d see each other and then afterwards to celebrate each time I survived. And at first it was DADT, then it wasn’t worth being seen together because I’d be leaving soon and I’d be leaving him in a city with my father, then it was Roswell, so conservative.” Alex shrugs, dejectedly, “I always had an excuse. And they were MY excuses. Not Michael’s.”

Alex is silent, and miserable with his introspection.

“But why do you like him, Alex? I can understand why you loved him as a 17 year old, or 18 year old or even as an asshole flyboy popping in for a quick lay. But why are you still a thing? It seems the only thing you two do is have sex and fight. Like, I don’t think there’s enough time sharing a post-coital pillow convo to build a…. to actually know someone enough to really, really like them… as a real person, I mean. Like as a whole imperfect human being that you love anyway despite all the shit they do that you hate. Both of you have barely had the time, in the past decade to build the kind of partnership where the domestic, or social, or emotional or economical aspects of a relationship draw you back together constantly. You don’t share friends, a house, or jobs, or kids… it can’t just be the sex, Alex. I mean you’re not that shallow and you’re a smart guy, I doubt you could settle for a superficial relationship. And this is hurting you.”

“I think it’s because we were both orphans, really. We’ve become each other’s families. And since we grew up in such an abusive way, the pain we cause each other sometimes, seems so irrelevant compared to having this undeniable connection with another person, who we’ve chosen for ourselves.”

“He’s just your person?”

“Yeah, I’d blow up the US military for him and Michael, no matter what, he always lets me crash-land, safely with him. I know he would drop everything to catch me.”

“Even Maria?”

Alex thinks about it, truly, really, thinks about it. “Yes!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tonight, they are getting a little more heavy-handed and loose than usual. Alex had bought a Mezcal he wanted to try, but didn’t want to drink alone. Forrest had insisted on starting with Mezcal Margarita’s and brought over the ingredients. He claimed it was to get them slippery enough to fall down the slope and ease the way for the pure Mezcal.

“You know, let’s keep it light this time. We were talking about losing our virginities we went down the long sad road of the Alex and Michael show… but I got the ‘Cinema Paradiso’ version; all the drama but the kissing was censored by the priest and his bell.” Forrest seems very self-satisfied with his reference.

“Let’s be real. You and Michael, like what is it? It’s been years and yeah, he’s hot and you’re hot but I can’t believe there haven’t been other hot men in your life. Even hotter men!”

“Well, yeah! Of course.” The margaritas were delicious.

“Details! Details or it didn’t happen.”

“I can’t just dive in and talk about Michael. It’s not that interesting.”

“Noooooo… the point is to _not_ talk about Michael. Let’s share some truths. I think it’s easier to build this up slowly and evenly, with random questions. You and me!”

Alex nods a slow agreement.

“I’ll start,” Forrest exclaims, “best Sex?”

Alex winces.

“Seriously? Without even thinking about it for a second?” Forrest asks incredulously.

Alex shrugs. Hands down Michael is the best sex, no hesitation. But they’re not talking about Michael. “Yeah, maybe we should start with an easier question and work our way up!” He suggests.

“Uhhhhh… who’s the guy you’ve dated for the longest time continuously?” Forrest sounds unsure of his question but Alex nods okay.

“Washington, after my second deployment in Afghanistan, I was on secondment to the Pentagon. He was a TA at Georgetown, I was taking some supplementary courses in Cybersecurity Risk Management and Strategy. Tommy Walker, we dated for 13 months.”

Forrest blinks at him, “wow! Okay that was boring. You were bored by that entire relationship. You probably fell into it because that’s what you thought dating was supposed to be like. I mean you tell me your location, tour, your job and his job before even mentioning his name.”

“I didn’t realise this was a test?” Alex laughs.

“My turn. His name,” Forrest states with emphasis, “was Adrian Cypress. We were together 2 years, it ended just before I moved here. He decided to do a masters abroad. He was focusing on languages and foreign relations and ended up in Argentina, then Brazil. I wasn’t really in a position to follow him, and I’m doing my masters in WWII history at Eastern. So, Brazil and Argentina...” Forrest shakes his head.

“Do you miss him?”

“Well, of course. He was a great guy. But he wasn’t my forever person or anything. And I, unlike you, actually like dating.”

Alex nods, “true! Only times I could claim to ‘date’…” he goes to the effort to gesture quotation marks in the air, “I had a repeat, weekender while I was in Texas for Tech school. I even met his friends and everything. But I wouldn’t call it a relationship. And then I dated Tommy after Afghanistan. Never had repeats while I was on deployment in war zones… or in Berlin.”

“And your weirdly intense wham bam thank you mam type situation with Michael.” Forrest adds.

“Well, for starters the wham bam thank you mam type situation, was my fault.”

“I know how the military thing, works Alex. I had a few, myself during my enlistment. But I wasn’t in love with them. We’ve discussed how you were _that_ Asshole.”

“Yeah…”

“Okay, enough. It’s your turn.”

Alex thinks about it and says, “best one-night stand?”

“Oh! I like it.” Forrest ponders noisily before answering. “Met him at UT at a party, he was a year or two younger than me and very sweet and big, all over. Like a gentle giant. I think he was a little new, not a virgin or anything, but just self-aware about his lack of boy experience. He was so attentive to what I wanted that it was just a pleasure to teach him how to make it good. It was just really fun, honest, no pressure, enjoyable sex. Fucked me once and then again in the morning and demonstrated how much attention he’d been paying the night before.”

“I think I kinda cheated with this question. Because my honest answer would just be. Berlin. All of it. The freedom of it, the diversity of it, the lack of guilt or shame, I felt so strong, physically and intellectually. Having been selected to go and the courses I was doing there, made me feel valued. But if I had to pick one, I would pick…” he thinks back, “blond guy, tall and slim, bottom, older than me, more experienced and definitely bossy, he knew what he wanted, wasn’t embarrassed about getting it. He spoke passable English and gave me a list of good music venues to check out in the city. He had an amazing apartment. A wall decorated with electric guitars in the same way you might hang pictures.”

“I’m glad you had the time to check out the guys guitars,” Forrest jokes. “Best sex advice? And nothing obvious, like, use lots of lube or communicate.”

Alex must make a face because Forrest laughs at him. “That’s a difficult question,” he defends, “Fuck! Let me think… ribbed condoms?” He throws out.

“The male version of Ben Wa balls,” Forrest nods seriously.

“Huh?” Alex considers, “Top or bottom?”

“Bottom,” Forrest answers back, “you?”

Alex thinks for a second, “Total switch. I enjoy topping and bottoming. I can also be very dominant while enjoying either of those positions.”

“And enjoy submitting?”

Alex considers, “I imagine that I could probably, enjoying being a little submissive if circumstances allowed.” Circumstances, have never allowed.

“Tattoos?”

“None!” Alex answers.

“Really? Fuck. I was sure you’d have a few.” Forrest stands with exaggerated reluctance, turns around, lifting the back of his shirt a little and hooking a finger in to his belt loop to pull his trousers down slightly, revealing a vaguely tribalistic inspired black abstract design on his lower back… very lower back.

“Tramp stamp! Unexpected, but you do you.” Alex doesn’t hold back his mirth, “I will throw in a freebie, though. 17year old Alex had both his ears and his septum pierced.”

Forrest, turns around swiftly, awed. “You are fucking with me?”

Alex shakes his head and reaches for two shot glasses. The margaritas are finished and he wants another drink.

Forrest reaches for the shot glass Alex has poured him. “You have just told me a true Disney romance story. High school cowboy Michael Guerin fell in love with punk Alex Manes? That’s the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.”

“Yep! Eyeliner and everything.” The Mezcal is strong and smoky and hits him in the chest.

Forrest clutches his heart dramatically and sits back down, taking a careful sip of Mezcal. “Fuck, this is good.”

“Something daring you’ve thought of doing?” Alex asks

“Ooooo, I’ve always been curious about getting fucked in a swing.”

Alex shudders, Michael had fucked him using his powers once and he could imagine it felt similar to what a sex swing might feel like. He shakes his head to clear out his thoughts. “Piercing my nipples…? Does that count?

“It was your question.” Forrest shrugs. “Favourite sexual position?”

Well, now that Forrest’s asked and with a bit of editing for human consumption. “Michael once pinned me to a wall, held me there and fucked my brains out. And it was amazing!”

“Oh, are we drunk enough that Michael is allowed to be part of the conversation?”

Alex points at Forrest, pressing his lips together to hold back a smile. “It’s your turn to answer, favourite sexual position?”

“Over the back of the couch, so desperate for it you can’t even get on the bed,” he throws out.

“Favourite sex act?” Alex reaches for a second pour.

“Uuuuuh, I would probably go for a good old fashioned rim job.” Forrest shares lazily.

“Fingering.”

“Really? Why fingering?”

“Hands are amazing, the fine motor function, dexterity, flexibility, strength, all these sensitive nerve ends.” Alex bends forward as if he’s sharing a secret, “before we went all the way through to actual anal sex, Michael and I would spend hours just exploring and playing and softening and practicing. Neither of us could afford or hide toys or anything so… for a while it was the most intimate thing we did and it was so good. Easy enough to do in a truck, in the desert. Sometimes we didn’t even have to take all our clothes off.” He settles back into the couch, his two hands wrapped round the small shot glass and sighs with the memories.

Forrest nods, considering, “biggest turn off?”

“Daddy kink!” Alex yells out, “I can’t! Just no! Fathers, dads, daddies… they need to be as far away from my bedroom activities as possible. A guy called me daddy and it was like having a bucket of ice thrown over me. I literally left a guy bent over and naked over his couch and teleported out of his living room.” Alex groans with shame.

Forrest is carefully balancing his shot glass so it doesn’t spill over while he collapses, with laughter.

When he can finally breathe again, he breaths out, “thanks for that. I didn’t know how visually I could imagine that happening to you. You still look so horrified and that happened how many years ago?”

Alex, shudders, “Your turn.”

“Hmmmm, certain kinds of dirty talk. It can be so slut shaming and specifically tops about bottoms. It’s like I let you come over and fuck me and now you’re sexy moaning that I’m a dirty bottom, sloppy and used up. Fuck no! You need to ask if I like that before you start saying shit like that. I get it, some guys find it hot. But I get completely turned off.”

“Dick piercings,” Alex exclaims.

“What about them?” Forrest replies, confused with the question.

“I don’t know, I’ve just always been curious about them.”

“Like, have I ever encountered one? No… I suppose I’d be really curious about trying it once.”

Alex nods in agreement.

“Best sex.” Forrest must think they’ve finally lubricated themselves with enough alcohol to repeat the question.

Alex exhales, “Michael!” As usual just a single name, the answer to all of his life’s questions.

“Maybe, it is just sexual compatibility. I mean, even the shitty, angry sex I’ve had with Guerin is better than the best sex I’ve had with anyone else. That’s such a depressing fucking thing to say…” Alex turns to look at Forrest, “And you know this is the first time I’ve said it out loud.” He shakes his head, smiling and he cheers Forrest with his shot glass before drinking what remains and reaching for the bottle of Mezcal for a refill.

“What does sex with your soulmate, even feel like?”

Alex closes his eyes. “Sex with anyone else has always felt a bit like an outer body experience. Like I’m watching and acting on behalf of the expectations that the person I’m with, has of me. It’s good, it can be great too. It’s not problematic for me to have sex with other people, I do enjoy it. But it feels like settling, compared to how amazing I know it can be.

“Fuck, its mind-blowing, it destroys me and builds me up, it shakes my foundation and is my foundation. It takes days to recover but, in that moment, we’ll turn back to each other and just start all over again, like desperate addicts. There’s this instinct we have about each other sexually. The minute we touch, we can feel everything we want, everything we like, we love, we enjoy, every touch echoes through us both. It’s the most intense experience I’ve ever had.

“It’s a fucking psychic bond. It connects us so intrinsically that when it comes to the time to have a conversation or talk about shit or coexist…” He shakes his head. “I think the reason we suck at the relationship part is that Michael and I connected on another level. We just don’t know how. Because when we’re no longer touching and the psychic bond shit is gone… we don’t understand each other, we can’t understand how we work and we miscommunicate. Everything falls apart when we’re not touching each other.”

Forrest is silent for a very long time. “I don’t know if normal people, normal love, is really like that. That sounds kinda other worldly.”

Alex groans, and buries his face into the pillow of the couch. “You can’t understand how much of a cliché it is that you think it’s out of this world!”

“I don’t know if I’m concerned or jealous?”

“Well,” Alex smiles sadly. “This is your fault.” He points accusingly. “Without this friendship bullshit and talking about relationships and shit. You’re my Sami… no therapy or psychological professionals were required in the making of this gay boy. Only one, Forrest Long.”

Forrest laughs, “Shit, I hope you haven’t really replaced your shrink with me?”

“Fuck no, this is a tiny little facet to the great fucking mess that is Alex Manes and the plethora of issues that fuck me up.” Alex laughs with him, “But I’m not going to talk about sex with my fucking military shrink.”

Forrest clears his throat, “I can’t believe Captain Alexander Manes said the words psychic bond out loud.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the end it’s all Forrest’s fault.

Alex is in a good place. He feels supported, secure, free and liberated. Kyle and Forrest have even become friends. They hang out and drink beer and grill in Alex’s patio and then they leave to go dance together at Planet 7. Forrest told Alex that Kyle is an excellent wingman.

Kyle had been the one to let them know that Michael and Maria had broken up. Amicably, with little to no drama, whatsoever, no fights, or hate, just dating one day and no longer doing so the next. No one has asked them for the details. But since hearing the news, Alex hates to admit it, but he feels lighter and more relaxed and easier in his skin.

Especially, because he’s caught glimpses of Michael around Roswell and he doesn’t look unhappy. He’d had an accidental coffee with Isobel (an incident he feels could only ever occur with Isobel) who had been eager to casually mention that Michael _‘was in a really good mindscape’._

Not that it matters, personally, to Alex.

But it does mean that when Forrest starts to bully him into a dirty weekend in Albuquerque to go clubbing and let loose and let their dancing shoes wear out. Alex does not say no. He says yes, enthusiastically and they book a hotel with two rooms for a Saturday night. They argue with Kyle and laughing, forbid him from joining them because this is very gay weekend out.

And Alex is having fun. They’d eaten out before going back to the hotel to change for the club, arriving late. His hair is just on this side of too long to be regulation and looking messy. He’s wearing tight black jeans and a tight, black, worn out and slightly ripped, low v-neck, to make sure his dog-tags are visible; they deter some, and make the opening for the start of a conversation, possible. And eye-liner, Forrest had insisted on it.

But he’ll admit that tonight he wants to drink, let loose a little, and dance a lot. Getting laid would be nice but it’s not his primary purpose. He just wants to enjoy himself. He is enjoying himself. He’s two drinks in and the beat is deep, easy to get your hips dug in and the guy dancing pressed up, behind him hasn’t gone below his waist without asking but is definitely enjoying the skin under his T-shirt. He is also rubbing his rough stubbled cheek against Alex’s neck and jaw enough to feel the burn and for that burn to tempt Alex to turn around and move this forward.

Suddenly, Forrest has his fingers in his belt and is reaching to shout in his ear. Alex loses the beat and leans forward a bit so he can hear.

“Sorry. I told him we’d be here.”

Alex goes from grinning breathlessly to stillness from one moment to the next. He looks up and to the side and meets Michael’s eyes, with such certainty that Alex doesn’t know how to explain that his body and his brain already knew he was standing there. As if he had a beacon shining down on him and a halo in his curls to guide Alex’s gaze to him. They are two points of calm in the mass of colourful, dark, writhing, pulsing bodies.

The guy moving behind him brings his hands down over his waist and to his hips for the first time and tries to encourage Alex to join him in the rhythm again. And Alex lets himself be swayed.

Michael has come all this way, he can cross the final distance to come and get Alex, himself.

His heart is beating in opposition to the pulse of the music around him. But he closes his eyes and moves with it. He’s not waiting… but he’s waiting.

He feels it when Michael stands in front of him. He doesn’t open his eyes but he feels the stillness and irregular calm surrounded by motion. He also feels the finger tips that reach out to brush over his cheek, to the corner of his eyes and the thumb the sweeps over his lips. The hand that presses over his belly. The air that carefully pulls him towards Michael and pushes the nameless man backwards, separating them insistently.

Alex opens his eyes, eyebrows raised, a busy club is not the place to use his powers. But Michael doesn’t care, his singular focus on efficiently and purposefully securing Alex in his arms. Michael doesn’t let him go. The hand hovering near his face curls round his neck and the other around his hip and he brings them together, presses in as close as he can.

He doesn’t look away from him. Alex studies the planes of his face, his eyes that glitter in the flashing lights, he’s shaved and he looks good in faded grey jeans and a faded t-shirt.

They are not moving yet.

Michael motionless, watching for Alex’s reaction to his invasion, to his presence, to his touch. Alex is waiting for Michael’s promise and his commitment. It is not ideal to have this conversation in a club, without talking. But hadn’t Alex said to Forrest that they communicate when they touch, that they speak and love with sex, with their skin. It’s all Alex wants for the rest of his life.

This is it! This is the last time either of them will have the audacity to dare to try and grasp at this thing between them that feels like the very best and worst thing that happens to them. But neither of them has the capacity to deny the inexplicable connection. Alex doesn’t want to live without this. He doesn’t want to enjoy life without Michael, at his side.

They move together at the same time, eyes opened, noses bumping, lips meeting, as they move to the beat of the music. An unhurried acknowledgement of where this is going.

In the meantime, they’ll dance together, for the first time. Alex, turning in Michael’s arms to smile at Forrest.

To lean back and be held securely in the circle of Michael’s embrace as the world moves and flashes and sings and dances around them. Nothing else matters but this. And that’s enough for now. It’s everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

**_Cut Material:_ **

“Do you think it’s weird that we never talk during sex?”

Michael frowns, “I don’t think I’ve noticed. Don’t we?”

They’re on the couch, watching TV. Michael is sitting on the end. With Alex’s foot on his lap and his hand wrapped around his ankle, his right knee on a pillow, resting from the day with the prosthetic. They have both been trying to make the effort to…. Not talk, specifically… but just spend un-naked time together. Adding the pressure of needing to discuss things, isn’t something either of them really feel prepared for. But spending time that isn’t the lead up or come down for fucking each other’s brains out is still intimate and thrilling.

It has made Alex realise though that Michael can’t be near him, without touching him in some way. Michael is touching his fucking ankle, the only one he has, and Alex feels needed and desired and wanted in the most ridiculous way.

Michael breaks him out of his thoughts, “What do you mean? That we don’t talk during sex? I’ve never done something that you don’t want.”

Alex shakes his head, “no. That what’s kind of weird. We’ve never done anything that made one of us uncomfortable. We still escalate… like we’re never bored. But even when we do something new, we never even ask.” Alex stopped to carefully construct the next part of his thought process. “Yesterday, we were outside in the open and you pinned me to the wall of the fucking house, held me up with your powers and fucked my brains out.”

Alex takes a moment to live that again, because as always it had been mind-blowingly spectacular.

He focuses, “So much of that could have been problematic. We were outside, I wasn’t wearing my leg, my crutches were who knows where, you pinned me to the wall… I mean I should have felt exposed, trapped, immobile…”

“Did you?”

“Of course not! But that’s the thing. How the fuck do you know? How do I know? How come this doesn’t require some discussion?” Alex gestures between them, “even now, here we are and I’m bringing it up and you’re not even concerned I might be calling you out on doing something I didn’t like. Actually, you are absolutely certain that you never have. You’re just sitting there calmly, touching my fucking ankle.” Alex looks up at the ceiling. “I have a million triggers… before I was even deployed. I don’t think I’ve ever been touched by another human being who hasn’t, in some form, triggered me. But you don’t.”

“I think it’s an alien thing.”

Alex blinks at him in shock as he processes the words that Michael uttered. He tears his ankle out of Michael’s grip and for the first time during this conversation he feels tense and anxious.

“Are you like this… is it like this with everyone? For you? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Come here.” Michael grabs his hand and pulls him forwards, until Alex has no choice but to get on to his knees. He keeps tugging but Alex resists his silent request to sit on his lap and instead twists to sit beside him. Their sides pressed together and his hand still in Michael’s grip.

“Nothing that I do with anyone else was ever even remotely similar to what I ever shared with you, Alex. What we share now. This is ours and this is it!”

Alex lets his body curl up into Michael.

“Alex, you’re my fucking quantum entanglement.”

He let’s himself sigh into Michael’s embrace, his touch, the feel of his fingers brushing through his hair. He frowns… quantum entanglement a much better choice of words the psychic bond. Forrest wouldn’t have laughed at him so much with a quantum entanglement.

**_Bonus Cut Material:_ **

Alex should have known, that eventually, everything would go completely wrong.

He’s been very careful about maintaining his friendship with Forrest. Even now that his thing with Michael is … a thing. He makes sure to allocate phone time and physically present time to their friendship. He fucking values it and needs to keep it going at all costs.

But while Michael had not been a thing. Forrest had become accustom to stopping by the house, whenever he wanted.

Today it’s Sunday, Michael’s on the couch nose deeply buried in the bright screen of the laptop that he’s taken hostage. Reading online scientific journals, or Engineering Are Us… something highly technical.

Alex has just set his guitar aside and gone to the kitchen to grab a snack when his front door is thrown open and Forrest’s voice rings through the house.

“I need to share the weirdest date that I have ever experienced. Also… a surprisingly good dick, though.”

Alex hangs suspended in the moment eyes flickering between Michael, who’s looking surprised on the couch and Forrest who very casually steps into Alex’s living room and says, “Hey, Michael, I’m not interrupting, am I?”

Michael very purposefully shuts the laptop and sets it aside swinging his legs off the couch to face Forrest. “No, don’t worry. Sit and Alex can get you something to drink.” He swings his head over to Alex who’s still standing uncertainly between the living room and the kitchen. “Do you need me to help?”

“Noooo,” Alex says carefully as he turns back to start preparing the nachos he’d been craving a moment ago. He could grab the six pack so there’d be beer for the three of them.

“Tell me about this good dick! Musta’ been a tourist there’s a surprising lack of good dick in Roswell. And I’ve got the best one.”

Forrest pauses, “Are you talking about your dick or Alex’s? I don’t know you enough to work out the ownership dynamic in your phrasing.”

“Alex’s!” Michael replies with enthusiastic certainty.

Alex presses his head against the kitchen counter and groans.

**_Later that night_ **

“Forrest is my person, not yours.” Alex insists as they get ready for bed.

“I have to share yours; I’m not allowed my own.”

“Why? You need a person that understands and appreciates straight sex. We don’t. And I absolutely don’t want hear about it.”

“Isobel thinks she’s my person and anyone who steps into her territory… I think she would kill them?”

Alex gestures an emphatic, _why are you doing this to me?_

“But I don’t want Isobel to be my person. It’s weird! I don’t want to be Isobel’s person but she keeps making me her person. You don’t know how many times I had to save her from a handcuff situation before she got married. I saw way too many naked straight dudes while I pretended to pick a lock. She asked me about butt plugs a couple weeks ago,” he looks horrified.

“That is not my problem, Michael.”

“It kind of is, Alex. Those toys… there’s a short list of people she would use toys on and at the moment it’s a flip between your straight best friend or your brother and I didn’t have the guts to ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> I want to be finishing the last 2 chapters of In My Worst Moments but since I started this new dip in to fandom after 10 years of being disappeared... I'm writing like an over excited chipmunk... running from scene to scene, story to story, with no logical reason or respect for storyline or timeline.   
> And this was finished first... and I didn't want to wait to post it because I would just keep fiddling with it.


End file.
